


Firestorm

by callmeflo



Series: if Wishes were Irises [6]
Category: Those Who Went Missing
Genre: ARPG, Esk species, Gen, TWWM, flicker trying to be sociable, plains biome event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 02:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeflo/pseuds/callmeflo
Summary: She hears about Vetru's gathering by word of mouth.





	1. the Gathering

She hears about the gathering by word of mouth. Her crumbling village in the forgotten English countryside is known by many esk, and the resident herself known as kind but not overly friendly; as such, though there is no clambering of friends to badger her into attending, a passing esk does obligingly pass along the message.

From her lounging position upon the mossy wall of the well, centre stage in the ever quiet market place and perfectly highlighted by the sunrise each morning, the creature’s sharp gaze watches as the respectful little esk trots away back to their journey, tall foliage sparking into being as they leave the shadowed alleys into the grassy hills beyond.

She shakes out the long fur of her mane, rich oak locks settling around the base of the proud iris flower, and sighs in contemplation. It had been some time since her last excursion. Whilst she’d been enjoying the peaceful days tending to the wildflowers sprouting stubbornly through the old infrastructure, she knows the restlessness would soon return. The faded memories of travelling as a taller, spotted animal are gradually being overlaid with biomes explored and esk she’d met more recently, as the call of a nomadic life tugs on her as it always has.

The animals that lived around her will hardly notice her absence, going about their busy lives with no worries in the safety of the spirit’s sanctuary. The esk picks her way through the colourful blooms and leafy shrubs that she’d nursed to life from the heavily trampled ground, knowing they too would not wilt without her.

At the village boundary, the cobblestone wall barely reaching her belly after decades of weathering and overgrowth, the sense of human development dims at the abrupt flourish of wildness - acres of lush grasslands and untamed forests separate the old town from the next small settlement, and even more follows before the concrete city that rapidly grew on the horizon. Long, spindly legs stride nimbly over the remnants of the barricade with a golden tail trailing along behind her like the current of a trickling stream. The fluttering petals upon her back curl further inward with each step, enclosing into a bud and then disappearing into fur to reveal the glimmering mica of her flecks.

Days pass quickly as she settles into the comfortable rhythm of canter, legs stretching to cover the distance. She blinks through space occasionally, taking a single twisting stride that covers miles when she recognises that a place she’s been before is on her path, shedding days from her trek. Every so often a wisp of magic glimmers in her peripheral, the other attendees and their keepers inadvertently guiding her. She passes over the large expanse of water, paws slapping against the dark surface and leaping over crests of waves, surrounded by silhouettes of other spirits that amble on at various paces.

The plains soon come into view; at first just tufts of grass upon tall cliffs and then all at once a great sea of green and gold. Pathways form through the prairie, once trodden by animal herds and now used to lead esk, and she travels along them amongst others of her kind. The yellowed grasses turn colourful on the distant hills, and as she approaches them the rainbow blur is revealed to be a garden of flowers; the speckled pastels of foxglove one of the first she recognises, and then bright gayfeather and tickseed, phlox, indigo, forget-me-nots, and sunflowers.

The plains wanderer is scarcely taller than her, but, standing on a jagged tooth of rock that looks to have burst from the ground and with the blazing horn glowing from their forehead, appears to tower over even the mountainous esk topped with trees. Their voice carries on the breeze as they stutter their story, weaving a tale of hope and wonder that seems to make the wildflowers perk up along with the spirits.

As Vetru bounds down from their podium with a crackle of static zinging nervously through their grass, the brown esk drifts away unobtrusively, weaving between the other mingling ghosts. Her nose reaches forward to tickle a blood red flower as she passes, disturbing the scent and sending it swirling up to the delight of a honeybee nearby.

She settles eventually beside a pool of mirror-clear water, a small lake created by one of the meandering streams that the plains wanderer had drawn here. The shadow of a tree, broken and scarred but sprouting with new growth, moves over her body as the sun rises across the sky. The meadow is bright with sunlight when Vetru comes to stand at her side.

“Have you traveled far?” they ask.

“Rather,” the visitor replies, “and I brought you a gift from home.”

The dappled esk brightens, the skittish energy about them settling slightly, and watches as the other carefully slips a withered seed pod from her mane, taking it reverently with a gentle touch of telekinesis.

“From my own iris,” she explains. “It will grow well for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Base Score: 16 AP (Writing: 843 words)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +20 AP (NPC Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 1)  
> +8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)  
> Total AP per submission: 59
> 
> Base Score: 8 GP (Writing: 843 words)  
> +6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)  
> Total GP per submission: 14


	2. Ash on the Wind

The mottled grey esk soon drifts away from the commotion, racing like a cheetah until he’s barely in sight, heading for the overreaching hills that offer a perfect panorama of the haven he had created.

Hundreds of esk still wander happily through the wildflower plains around her. Some still have their powers, showing in brilliant frills of verdure and petals, sparkling lights that enchant the air around them, or skittering creatures that ghost at their sides. Others are oddly shaped for being in this environment, dragging trails of long fur around that should have been floating elegantly in deep water. They colour the fields with their patterned furs, glittering flecks and bright masks standing out under the glaring sunlight.

Many separate into groups. Like-minded esk, the gentle tinkling of travellers curling up together to chatter, and more unusual pairs meeting tentatively to share knowledge and old stories. The smaller spirits tend to flitter between the others, bounding through the tall grasses and leaping onto welcoming backs for a better view, playing amongst giant paws.

The huge gathering reacts like wind ruffling a crop field when the first call goes out. Suddenly everyone is on their feet, a chaotic scrambling as fear and shock chokes them. It tastes of ash.

On the horizon, a mass of grey cloud billows into the once bright sky, drowning out the sun and casting a shadow over the land. A series of blinding flashes, accompanied by booming drums of thunder, relight it in electric white and blue - they strike the ground in the same second, sending sparks spitting from flowerhead to flowerhead, and then the world is on fire.

The brown esk doesn’t remember standing to face the threat, but finds her feet tethered to the dry floor with dread. The fire spreads on brittle leaves as easily as paper, igniting the field so quickly she can barely make sense of it all. When she finally wrenches herself into a run, everything seems to speed up with adrenaline. She can see the field of esk splitting from the middle, fanning out over the plains with the same thoughts running through their minds; find Vetru, stop the fire, save as many as possible.

She fearlessly vaults a wall of flames, landing on charred ground that threatens to burn her paws, and sweeps left to herd a cowering family of rabbits to safety. A herd of pronghorn in the distance bray in alarm but a hulking grassland esk approaches them at speed, a trio of tiny esk jumping from his back to head toward a crying coyote further afield. To her right, the comforting glow of magic heralds a transformation taking place.

When the rabbits’ white tails disappear down a winding network of burrows, the esk jumps past the hole’s entrance and moves onto the next victim. There is fire approaching fast and only so many esk making up the rescue teams to race it. There is no time to lose. Next up is a young ferret with wide, fearful eyes set in a black mask, and a group of shivering prairie dogs that all hop trustingly up into her fur for a ride to the greenery in the distance. As they bound away together, she’s immediately turning back to a trapped sage-grouse, his tail and wing feathers splayed as if he could threaten the flames away, and the delicate quail chicks hiding between him and a charred, fallen tree branch. Insects flock to her as she dashes back and forth, taking shelter between her legs as she guides them forward.

It doesn’t take long for the skyline to be more black than green. Glowing embers still sweep along, killing everything in their path, blocking exits and surrounding innocent lives. Hails for the wanderer echo through the air with wisps of grey smoke, calling frantically with everlasting hope.

As the last wild creatures take off into distant safety or open their eyes to their second life, the search parties gain strength; an attempt at coordination amidst the panic is made to quicker find Vetru, and more esk bound back out to track down the source of the flames.

But from the centre of the storm, the fire seems to be coming from everywhere, raining down from the heavens in great bolts of lightning, and the longer it goes on, the further it spreads, the harder it is to place the origin of the suffocating plume of smoke. The little esk turns on her hind feet, eyes straining through the smog to see -

A pair of eyes staring straight into her very soul, a blue so bright she can barely stand to not look away, pinched in an anger so fierce that it matches the murderous blaze around her… 

And, unmistakably, an esk.

She turns and runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Base Score: 16 AP (Writing: 801 words)  
> +5 AP (Elemental: 5 AP * 1)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +20 AP (NPC Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 1)  
> +8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)  
> Total AP per submission: 64
> 
> Base Score: 8 GP (Writing: 801 words)  
> +6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)  
> Total GP per submission: 14


	3. Revelations

The thick smoke hanging in the air writhes into threatening swirls, multiple tails of one of legend’s most dangerous creatures, arms reaching out to grab no matter how fast she bolts. It ossifies into a monumental figure, blacker than black even against the dark sky, backlit with crackling electricity and the red glare from the flames.

Its kind is evident even in the face of the esks’ denials, the thrum of its energy clearly the raging emotions of a powerful spirit, angered for a reason unknown to those watching the fallout. It continues to thrash like a tortured animal behind her, its spasming shadows stretching out into her path. ‘How dare they,’ she wonders, gasping, ‘how dare they plague the beautiful earth, mar it with their wrath, endanger the species that make the Great Plains so lively?’

When she reaches the gathering place, the bright meadow where Vetru had stood tall upon the rocks, it is to a twisted facsimile of earlier that day; esk now cower in their places in amongst the dulled spectrum of flowers. There is little land of the wanderer’s pasture left unmarred, and the wildfire’s edges creep ever closer as they stand.

Abruptly, with only approaching splats from the surface of the stream as warning, their saviour arrives. Their horn is glowing more magnificently than ever, an icy blue that rivals the fearsome beast that looms behind them, pointing right into the atmosphere as the old esk clatters to the top of their altar once again. From their spiked dorsal stripe peeks two tiny eyes and specks of purple petals; yet another creature saved from the danger of the malevolent esk.

“My friends,” the wanderer calls, voice showing none of the horror that they must feel, “Prepare yourselves to accept new abilities to fight the firestorm!”

As Vetru explains their plan, the esk around them scatter to do as they’re bid. The brown esk, so far from home with barely a hint of her usual power, dashes away as directed toward the eastern edge of the field.

The main wildflower prairie is surrounded with higher ground, in some places forming tall, vertical cliffs tufted with determined grasses and mosses, and in others a line of rough rocks that could be passed in a strong jump. The rocky edge she reaches is treacherous for the living but barely a hinderance to a spirit, and so she throws herself in without caution.

At the highest peak stands a gravestone, taller than herself and able to look out at the prairie below as if the esk it once was wished to watch over the boundary even after giving up their form. It looks like a roughly carved boulder grown straight from the ground, chipped pieces at the base glittering with sapphire crystals - she can sense the old transformation magic from each shard. On the front of the great stone, the flat face is scored with a symbol: the outline of a water droplet in front of three horizontal lines, which faintly glow the gentle blue of a calm pond. From these, she can sense the overwhelming power of an elemental ability.

The esk walks forward solemnly to touch the tip of her nose to the symbol. All at once, the fiery red haze all around her is drowned out by azure light, and through the illumination she can feel the euphoric rush of the water element swirling inside her body, cooling the sizzling heat from her paws and forming drips of pearlescent dew to cling to the fur of her ruff. The golden sliver in her eye turns aqua and glows, as if the element needs to make itself more known.

She bows respectfully to the fallen esk before turning about-face. Along the horizon are beams of similar tones of blue, springing from the ancient relics to the esk surrounding them, forming swirling typhoons and swashes of heavy rain to be used by their new wielders.

Her own power is as gentle as her own character, the subtle teardrops of glistening water bringing life back to the withering plants on the hot baked ground nearby where she stands. It beads along grass blades and moistens drooped petals, soaking into the sandy terrain and darkening the tan dust as it hunts for thirsty roots. It might not be a deluge of water to put out the monstrous wall of fire, but she will follow in her fellow esk’s footsteps and care for the wildflowers left behind, looking sorry and scorched and caked in strangling grey ashes.

She takes a deep breath, inhaling the crisp, fresh air created by her morning dew, and begins heading back to the gathering place once more. Wearing bravery like a second coat of fur, she is ready to fight this battle.

Flicker, named for the fire of her creator that reflected in her eyes, has never been scared of this element. She is not about to start now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Base Score: 16 AP (Writing: 825 words)  
> +1 AP (Enchantment: 1 AP * 1)  
> +5 AP (Elemental: 5 AP * 1)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +20 AP (NPC Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 1)  
> +8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)  
> Total AP per submission: 65
> 
> Base Score: 8 GP (Writing: 825 words)  
> +5 GP (Elemental: 5 GP * 1)  
> +6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)  
> Total GP per submission: 19


	4. a New Horizon

The weakening lightning strikes fail to spark a flame upon the bedewed plant life, the little leaves protected by the elemental layer that draws the danger down safely into the ground, and then the flashes are unable to hit them at all as they’re swiftly absorbed into the glowing enchanted horns that adorn approaching esk.

The lightning soon comes to an end, the sonorous thunder quietening, and the fires are smothered patch by patch. The trickling streams have long overflowed but the flash flood drains rapidly into the cracked soil, ready to liven the field once more. The sooty cinders are washed away from curling flowers and, with a touch of elemental power from a plains esk bound to this land, turn into fertiliser for the scourged meadow.

As the danger fades, so do the temporary powers granted by the old esk that continue to watch over the biome. Auras dim and disappear, horns blink away, glowing runic markings dull back to their original earthy colours. The tickling mist that hangs in the air settles down into the vegetation, torrents of rain spluttering out as quickly as they began. Flicker’s fur drips its last dew drops and returns to its usual light, wavy mane, and her eyes regain their golden shine.

With the waters bleeding away, so does the storm of panic and horror trail off into relief and weariness. The bright rainbow of flowers has been flattened into a blackened mess, just odd hints of colour peeking through that managed to wilfully survive, and though it looks like a mass grave of nature marring the American landscape, the assembled esk know that it’s only a matter of time before the hardy little plants burst their way into life once more. The pointed snags of broken trees will sprout new branches and blossoms for the next year’s springtime.

A couple of acres up westward stands the tall stump of a timeworn wolf tree, burnt in the wildfires of long ago and since mostly rotted away, leaving crooked, splintered boughs and chips strewn around the shell of the trunk. The bark is black and dead, formerly strong roots the only things holding the stump together. Inside is big enough for a few esk to lay comfortably, and it must have once stood tall enough to reach the clouds.

Unlike the other trees in the landscape, this one had not grown back, nor been taken over by mushrooms and vivid fungi, no carpet of moss and lichen climbing into the damp holes between wedges of bark. The esk had instinctively shied away from its fallen remains, and it now became clear why their subconscious caused them to keep their distance: the tree was emitting the final wisp of dark smoke, just a swirling trail into the sky like rings from a cigarette.

Vetru motioned for the audience to stay quiet as they crept toward the source of the horrendous wildfire.

Minutes later, the dappled esk backs up a step to reveal an unexpected figure; a tiny blue-grey esk with tufty ears that perk up at the sight of the onlookers. Their bright blue eyes are sad and glistening with tears, and as Flicker meets them she gets a mysterious glimpse of the past - a swath of cyan bubbling around her, colourful corals so similar to the field of wildflowers, odd looking creatures that grew limbs and fur as she watched. As the blue fades into greens, resembling the landscape she knew to live in the present, the faint sense of heartbreak grew like a stone in Flicker’s chest. She watches as the mountainous tree encases her, leaving behind a trap of darkness and rage.

The vision ends as the seafloor esk looks back up to the plains wanderer, nodding their head in resigned acceptance. Vetru’s transformative powers are more beautiful than all the magics Flicker had seen that day, an incandescent light surging out to encompass the little esk and then explode outwards in a flash. As her eyes refocus she can see the creature left behind: no longer so infinitesimal, their legs lengthened like a deer standing proudly, with a long neck holding their head high to survey their newly formed boundary. The twisted branches of the tree that had grown around their inert form were now refashioned like spiritual wings splayed from their shoulders, in front of the sponge familiar that had reappeared in a ghostly guise.

But most stunning of all, the wreath of golden flames that crackle peacefully from the tips of each twig, once wild but now calm and controlled. 

The abnormal esk towers over the mismatched group of esk gathered around his home and nods to themself, seeming to silently vow to use their considerable powers to protect the prairie and its inhabitants, as the Great Plains’ newest guardian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Base Score: 16 AP (Writing: 804 words)  
> +1 AP (Enchantment: 1 AP * 1)  
> +5 AP (Elemental: 5 AP * 1)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +20 AP (NPC Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 1)  
> +8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)  
> Total AP per submission: 65
> 
> Base Score: 8 GP (Writing: 804 words)  
> +6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)  
> Total GP per submission: 14


	5. Epilogue

Flicker wanders the remaining floral meadow with the other visiting esk, the chatter once again lively and positive with their accomplishments. In the distance, Vetru is joined at the old charred tree stump by the towering shadow of Nameless as they carefully bury the seed that started this gathering. The magnificent elderly esk’s appearance generates more excited gossiping, but her presence also sends waves of calm throughout the plain. Even the jittery silhouette of Vetru calms eventually. 

In the distance, the tall figure of the plains’ newest abnormal hovers like a mirage on the horizon. Flicker can hear a couple of little esk nearby gathering their bravery in preparation to go welcome them.

As the sky darkens to a blanket of blacks and blues, glimmering with stars that seem so much brighter here away from any artificial lights, the gathered spirits gradually start to disperse. Their own biomes call them home, and Flicker too can feel the weariness of the busy past days catching up to her.

The brown esk meanders her way to the outskirts of the gathering place, where the flowers are dusted with a fine sprinkle of soot. As introverted as she has always been, born from her previous life of being constantly on the move with only one companion, she hadn’t made friends on this venture like so many of the esk around her. But there was one that she’d be happy to say her goodbyes to - and as if she’d called them over, the dappled shape of the plains wanderer canters their way over. 

“Flicker,” they call out, “wait, I have something for you!”

“Thank you,” she replies, grateful, as she accepts the tiny pip that is enthusiastically pushed toward her with a hoofed foot. It is golden in colour to match the marking on her tail tip, and she nestles is safely in the long fur at her shoulder.

“Thank you for coming,” they retort. 

“It was quite the experience.”

Vetru must see something in the slight furrow of her brow, because they look at her in askance. 

“I wonder if I’ll ever earn an elemental power,” she whispers, shamefaced. She doesn’t mean to be jealous, to miss the rush of the element coursing through her spirit. But thinking of her boundary, abandoned not so long ago and already bursting with plant life, she can’t help but wish her green thumb was a little more. Sometimes she thinks she can feel ivy curling around her paws and petals brushing purposefully against her, but it’s a far off dream. “I feel so close to nature, but I don’t think it will ever be enough.”

The dappled grey esk’s eyes smile kindly at her. “You told me that you were growing a wildflower field within your village, now that the humans had left,” Vetru says quietly, “and that it was blooming quite well.”

“Yes,” she answers. 

“Then it sounds to me like your powers are manifesting already. There is no trial to go through to earn an elemental power, no competition to win it. Your power is a part of your spirit, and you must know yourself and trust yourself for it to present.”

Flicker stutters and shifts on her paws, surprise putting her off balance. “You think I already—?”

Vetru’s eyes soften. “I had trouble myself, when my elemental power showed itself too strong for me to handle; it has been years since and yet I’ve still struggled. In this past week I’ve learnt more about myself and my home than in all of my centuries, and with that I feel I can finally start to understand the storm within me.”

The plains esk sighs, gazing out at the prairie with great emotion.

“I think you have more power than you believe, and that you are a stronger soul than you can imagine. You are in touch with the flora around you like few others I’ve met - you just need to realise it yourself.”

Flicker stands beside the wanderer in silence, letting his wisdom sink in. The bracelets she made down by the creek had become a part of her form with just a thought, and the village cat was such an important part of her home that its spirit had curled into her own as if it were only natural. She hadn’t thought about how such a powerful force as an elemental power would come to be, but she supposed she’d just been expecting it like the others.

But it wasn’t a sudden ability brought on by the thousandth flower planted; it was growing a little more with each petal. It was there in the lush green leaves of plants that can’t yet see the sun, and in the fruit trees that blossomed for a season too long, and in the weak little seedlings that forced their way through the hard packed road to bloom into beautiful flowers. She can almost feel the element itself blooming in the back of her mind.

Under the brilliant moonlight Flicker settles in the grass, knocking ash from the leaves with each movement, and lets her spirit settle too. Vetru races off for a last word with a tall plains esk just leaving, and then bounces their way through the remaining visitors as they slowly scatter.

Eventually, the brown esk gets to her feet once more and begins the peaceful trek home with one last glance at the scarred landscape. Her slowly manifesting elemental power will be there to nurture later on, but for now, she has a seed to plant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Base Score: 18 AP (Writing: 923 words)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +20 AP (NPC Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 1)  
> +8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)  
> Total AP per submission: 61
> 
> Base Score: 9 GP (Writing: 923 words)  
> +6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)  
> Total GP per submission: 15


End file.
